


You Come Back to What You Need

by ladyannabethstark



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Clarke and Lincoln bonding time, F/M, post-season two, talking about those Blake siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-23
Updated: 2015-03-23
Packaged: 2018-03-19 07:10:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3600912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyannabethstark/pseuds/ladyannabethstark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the end, it was Lincoln who found her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Come Back to What You Need

**Author's Note:**

> This is just from a prompt that I got on tumblr. It was meant to be a drabble but it turned into more so I decided to post it here.
> 
> Title is from This Love by Taylor Swift.

In the end, it was Lincoln who found her. Clarke knew she shouldn’t have been surprised. He knew the woods the best out of all of them and she couldn’t cover her tracks well enough to keep him from tracking her. Knowing that it was him didn’t keep her from scrambling up a tree at his approach and gripping her dagger tightly in her hand. Her gun had run out of ammo weeks ago. He wasn’t fooled, coming to a stop beneath the tree before looking straight up at her.

“You can come down,” he said, stepping away.

Clarke let out a heavy sigh, slowly making her way back down to the ground.

“Does Octavia know that you’re here?” she asked, sheathing the dagger in a belt that Lexa had given her before their march on Mount Weather.

It was yet another reminder of the betrayal that still stung.

“I told her that I’m hunting,” he said, lifting the bow in his hand.

Clarke nodded, stepping away from him.

“Well you can go on your way and I’ll go on mine,” she said, turning away from him.

“I came out to help you,” Lincoln said, stopping her in her tracks.

She turned around slowly, giving him a confused look.

“Why?” Clarke asked.

“Because you need it,” he said, shoulder the pack off of his back.

He opened it, pulling out a bag of rations. As she started to shake her head, he gave her a quelling look.

“Bellamy has been saving them for you. He plans to leave Camp Jaha one day, to bring them to you.”

Clarke’s heart dropped at his words and she stepped towards him, uncertainty written across her face.

“Does he know you’re here?” she asked, aware that her voice was smaller than she ever wanted it to be.

“No. No one does,” Lincoln said with a shake of his head.

He glanced around before looking back at her.

“You’re living in the caves,” he said.

It wasn’t a question. He knew that she was.

“The dropship was too obvious. It’s the first place that they would have looked,” Clarke said with a half-hearted shrug of her shoulders.

Lincoln nodded before handing his bow to her. She took it with wide eyes, holding the smooth wooden part in both hands.

“I don’t know how to use it,” she said.

“I’ll teach you,” he replied, handing her the sheath of arrows.

And with that, he was circling her and giving pointers on how to hold the bow and where to position the arrow. Every once in a while, he would adjust her stance or reposition her hands on the bow. It felt strange to be touched after being away from others for so long.

“How long have I been gone?” Clarke asked, looking into his eyes as she lowered the bow.

Lincoln didn’t answer right away, staring back at her for several moments.

“About two months,” he finally said.

She sighed and nodded, refusing to let tears well up in her eyes.

“Bellamy, is he…?” Clarke didn’t finish, unsure of what she was asking.

“He’s survived so far. The task of taking care of your people has distracted him. But he’s not the same, not since you left,” Lincoln answered honestly.

Her shoulders slumped slightly and she shook her head.

“I had to,” Clarke whispered.

“I know,” he said simply.

She nodded, his words giving her the slightest bit of strength to lift the bow again. With that, they were back to him teaching her. Just as she started to get the hang of it, Lincoln commented that the sun was going down, meaning that he had to return to the camp. Clarke would hate to admit it, but even a short time of talking to him made her miss other people, though she knew that she wasn’t ready to return.

“Will you tell them?” she asked.

Lincoln looked up at her, knowing that what she was really asking is if he would tell  _him._

“No,” he assured her, pulling the pack up on his shoulder as well as several dead rabbits that she hadn’t seen before.

Clarke let out a sigh of relief as she watched him walk away, clutching the bow and sheath of arrows tightly.

“I don’t know how to make traps,” she called after him, causing him to turn around with the slightest bit of amusement on his face.

“I can teach you,” Lincoln said.

He left it at that, giving her hope that he might return. Clarke allowed herself to smile for the smallest moment before walking towards the caves with her new weapon.

* * *

A week and a half passed before she saw him again. Clarke had started marking the passing days on the wall of the cave where she slept so she wouldn’t lose track again. He came with supplies, including several changes of clothes, and sat in the middle of a meadow with her as she followed his directions on making traps for small animals and nets for bigger ones.

“Octavia won’t be happy if she finds out what you’re doing,” Clarke said after a while of silence.

Lincoln didn’t even glance up at her, weaving rope into a trap with the ease of practiced hands.

“Octavia has more to worry about. And her anger has dimmed quite a bit since your departure. She does not know what it is to lead but she understands that sometimes terrible decisions must be made.”

Clarke didn’t say anything for several minutes, wondering if Bellamy had said anything to Octavia to sway her.

“Is he angry with me? For leaving?” she finally asked.

Lincoln finally looked up at her, shaking his head.

“He was distraught at first. But he understands why you did it,” he said, pausing in his work.

Clarke took a deep breath, biting down on her lip as she finished a small trap and set it aside.

“I’m not sure that I understand why I did it anymore,” she admitted, drawing her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around her legs.

“Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown,” Lincoln said, staring off into the lining of trees.

“What?” Clarke said, her eyes widening.

It didn’t sound like something he would say.

“Bellamy said that when your mother asked why you went. It’s all that he said before disappearing into his tent,” he answered.

She considered that for a moment before putting her chin on her knees.

“They must be moving on without me by now,” Clarke said quietly, imagining Bellamy taking care of their people with his sister at his side.

Her mother would have taken back leadership, or given it to Kane. Perhaps they would even be leading together. She wouldn’t be surprised if they gave Bellamy a seat on the council. Their opinion of him seemed to change after the war.

“They’re doing fine but everyone expects for you to return,” Lincoln said.

“Maybe it would be easier if I didn’t go back,” she said thoughtfully, though the prospect of that made her chest ache.

“Easier for them? Or easier for you?” he asked.

Clarke stared at him with surprise, unsure of what to say. They both fell into silence, continuing in their work until it was time for him to leave. This time, as he walked away, Clarke knew that she wouldn’t have to say anything to know that he would return. It was obvious that he would.

* * *

A month passed before he returned, this time bearing yellowed but blank paper bound by leather cords as well as several pencils and pieces of charcoal.

“Monty,” Lincoln said simply when she took it from him with an awed look in her eyes.

“You told him?” Clarke asked, carefully stowing the art supplies in her pack.

“He guessed,” he replied.

Before she could ask anything else, he was gesturing for her to follow him. The walk was short but steep, carrying them up onto a high hill. As soon as they got to the top, Clarke wondered how she hadn’t seen any of this before. It was a beautiful, sprawling landscape. She could even see the very top of the fallen Ark, making her ache with longing. But it wasn’t time to return, not yet.

“I haven’t drawn in so long,” she said, pulling out the papers and a pencil.

“Neither have I,” Lincoln admitted, taking out his own leather-bound book that she’d seen before.

With that, they both fell into silence, sitting atop the hill with the sounds of nature and the scratch of their pencils filling the air.

“How is my mother?” Clarke asked after a long time, glancing up from her sketch.

“Busy. She throws herself into work to distract from your absence,” he said bluntly.

She felt a surge of guilt, knowing that her mother had to be devastated when she left.

“Can you take this to her?” Clarke said, carefully tearing the page away from the others before handing it to him.

Lincoln stared down at the drawing, looking impressed.

“Who is this?” he asked, glancing up at her.

“My father,” she replied, a hint of sadness in her voice. “We don’t have much left of him.”

She touched the watch on her wrist at the thought of him. She drew him smiling, his eyes shining with joy. It was how she preferred to remember him.

“He would have loved it down here,” Clarke sighed, glancing around. “It’s because of him that we’re here at all.”

“He sounds like a great man,” Lincoln said, carefully folding the paper before placing it in his pack.

“He was,” she nodded, looking over at him. “What are you drawing?”

Lincoln held it out to her, letting her see the drawing. It was a sketch split in half, one side with the Octavia that she knew when they first landed on the ground, all wide eyes and easy smiles. Then there was the Octavia from now, Grounder paint around her eyes and complicated braids woven into her hair. She was beautiful both ways, though more fierce in the second.

“It’s gorgeous,” Clarke said, marveling over his ability.

“Octavia is everything to me. I could not have survived if it wasn’t for her. She gives me strength when I think that I have none and hope when I fear that I have lost it,” Lincoln said honestly, staring straight into her eyes.

The look on his face had her shifting uneasily. She knew that he was trying to hint at something.

“It’s hard to think of depending on anyone again after everything. After Lexa,” Clarke admitted, looking away from him. “I’m doing just fine on my own.”

“What you’re doing isn’t living, Clarke. It’s surviving,” Lincoln said, his voice soft but his words unyielding. “The war is over. You can start living again. Bellamy is waiting for you to come back. He looks at the gate every morning and night hoping that you’ll walk through.”

She shook her head, a lump forming in her throat.

“It’s not like that,” she said, not knowing who she was trying to convince more.

“Are you sure?” Lincoln questioned.

Clarke didn’t answer, staring off at a glittering lake in the distance.

“How could he want someone like me?” she whispered, tears stinging at her eyes. “All that I do is cause suffering.”

“Bellamy would disagree,” Lincoln said.

She looked over at him, one tear running down her cheek.

“I’m not ready,” Clarke said.

“You will be,” he replied confidently.

She took a deep breath, carefully leaning into him with her head on his shoulder. He stiffened out of surprise before carefully wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

“Why are you doing this?” Clarke asked, sniffling and wiping at her eyes without moving.

“Because you are my people,” Lincoln answered, repeating her words from months ago.

She couldn’t help but smile slightly, letting her eyes flutter closed for just a few minutes.

* * *

Clarke was cleaning out her traps when she heard the sound of footsteps. She knew enough now to know that there was more than one person approaching. Standing up, she whirled around with her bow and an arrow at the ready. Lincoln came to a stop, putting his hands up slowly before stepping aside to reveal the last person that she expected to see. Octavia stepped forward, looking Clarke up and down with an almost impressed look.

“You made that yourself?” she asked, nodding at the animal furs that she’d sewed into a jacket to keep her warm.

“Lincoln taught me,” Clarke replied, lowering the bow and sheathing the arrow.

Octavia nodded, glancing around before looking back at her.

“I’ve known for a while that he was coming to see you,” she said.

Clarke didn’t know how to reply to that. She was partly surprised that Octavia hadn’t put an end to it, considering how their last conversation went.

“Is everyone okay?” she asked.

“As okay as they can be,” Octavia shrugged, stepping closer. “But they…we…all know that something has been missing.”

The way she looked at Clarke made it clear what that something was.

“Octavia…” she sighed, shaking her head.

“It’s time Clarke,” the other female cut her off.

She bit down on her lower lip, looking at Lincoln. He nodded slowly, clearly agreeing with Octavia.

“I can’t,” she managed to say, her voice breaking.

Octavia walked forward, closing the distance between them.

“Bell needs you,” she said simply, staring into her eyes. “It’s time.”

Clarke let out a shuddering sob, her knees buckling beneath her. It had been coming for a long time. She’d held herself back from crying too much. Little did she know that Octavia would be the one to catch her when she eventually broke down. They both sank to their knees, Clarke’s face buried in her shoulder and Octavia’s arms wrapped around her. They stayed there for several minutes before she managed to stop crying and regain her composure. Octavia helped her to her feet and Lincoln handed her pack and bow to her. After a quick trip to clean out her cave, Clarke was headed back to Camp Jaha. She still wasn’t that this was the right thing to do and she couldn’t help but warn them that she might decide not to stay. Neither of them seemed to be believe her. It wasn’t until the gate came into view from between the trees that the weight of everything lifted from her and she felt relief.

“I don’t regret leaving,” she said, looking over at Octavia. “But you’re right. It’s time.”

She marched forward on her own, every step coming quicker. The shouts began before she even reached the gate, her heart soaring when she heard her name. The doors opened with a loud creak, revealing a gathering crowd of people. Monty was there, grinning widely at the sight of her. Harper and Monroe were both smiling as well, happiness shining in their eyes. Miller was at his dad’s side, giving her an accepting nod. Even Jasper had the slightest hint of a smile for her, looking a million times better. Then he broke through the crowd, looking desperate and hopeful. When his dark eyes met hers, relief came over his face and he began running towards her. Clarke couldn’t help but remember a time when she’d run at him from the same direction. But this time, they were going to meet him halfway. She reached him quickly, her arms outstretched. Bellamy swept her into his arms, lifting her into the air and turning in a circle as his face pressed into her hair.

“You’re back,” he breathed, sounding as if all his worries had dissipated at the sight of her.

“I am,” Clarke said.

When the tears welled in her eyes, she knew that they were happy ones. Bellamy pulled away, looking at her with wonder in his gaze. He quickly wiped away her tears before pressing a long kiss to her forehead.

“I need you,” he whispered.

Clarke didn’t reply, putting her hands on his cheeks as she looked into his eyes. She stroked over his freckled skin with her thumbs, almost unable to believe that she was back there with his strong arms around her. With a small smile, she leaned in and brushed her lips over his, a small sigh leaving her mouth as he pulled her even closer.

“I need you too,” Clarke finally said, the words spoken against his lips. 

Bellamy deepened the kiss in response, one hand curling into her hair and other wrapped tightly around her waist. After several moments, Clarke became aware of the crowd around them and broke away with flushed cheeks, glancing around at the smiling faces.

“This wasn’t exactly the return I had planned,” she admitted, looking up into his eyes again. “But I’m not complaining.”

Bellamy grinned down at her, placing another chaste kiss to her lips before leading her to their people. With one last look over her shoulder, Clarke gave Lincoln a nod and a smile that said everything. She would thank him officially later but for now, they both knew that it was enough.

**Author's Note:**

> I would love to hear what you think!


End file.
